"NO!!"

Usagi's strangled scream shattered the silence as Rei 
labored to bring coherence to the scene in her dream.  
Gosling white tufts of mist floated everywhere.  Carmine 
streaks bore angrily through the white, vivid and pulsing 
to the reverberations of her friend’s piercing wails.

Floating along the periphery, or perhaps stationary as the 
scene revolved around her, she caught a glimpse of a long 
gold hair that dissolved into the hazy background.  The 
head, partially visible shook gently.  Finger’s, five 
slender fingers moved rhythmically, swaying to an unknown 
beat into and out of view.  Rei struggled as that glimpse 
disappeared from view, but the sound cutting through her 
heart remained.

Suddenly Ranma’s hate filled face staring fiercely at 
something, something she couldn’t see.  He was twisting in 
place, struggling to move forward but made no progress.  
Her eyes willed the obscuring substance to clear so she 
could and as if by virtue of her wishes it did.  She could 
feel her heart pounding as more of the fatalistic scene 
presented itself.  Minako’s head appeared over his shoulder, 
her mouth open and words coming out.  Her shoulder was bare, 
except for the most miniscule strap of metallic black 
stretched over it.  She noted then the flecks of blood that 
stained Ranma’s clothing, they wouldn’t have been noticed 
upon his travel stained attire, but they were so large.  
Swatches of vermilion that looked like they were splashed 
into place decorated his torso.

Howling in frustration, Rei was on the verge of breaking 
down like a baby as the scene dissolved and she noticed the 
clouds rustle and shimmer.  She couldn’t tell if she was 
moving, or the scene moving, or if it was only the clouds.  
Finally, mercifully, something else came into view, a man 
in a tuxedo.  He laid prone on the floor, a woman lying 
over him.  She couldn't believe how calm she had become 
instantly upon this scene.  Even though part of her knew it 
was a dream, a nightmare, the vision in front of her would 
haunt her for life. 

The twin trails of golden hair trailing over his body were 
unmistakable as belonging to the producer of that horrible 
cry that still shook her body.   Rei gulped as she looked 
to confirm what she knew her heart would never accept.  
Usagi’s chin was tucked into the straight black hair that 
she always wanted to ruffle.  Usagi’s arms cradled the body 
she always wanted to hold.   She blanched at the blood, it 
was everywhere, including a pool that formed where her 
friend’s arms linked and locked the man to her.  White and 
red filled the space where an all-white shirt should have 
been.  Agonizingly slowly her view shifted.  She took 
another moment to ready herself before she moved her vision 
to his face.  She made out his chin, and she could swear it 
was his.  His cheek came into view, already ash white in 
death, then his nose, one that she had seen countless time, 
and then she saw his face.  The nothingness in his eyes...

Rei woke to a cold sweat.  Her heart was pounding and she 
scrambled to her feet. 

She turned away from the makeshift camp in the soft morning 
light and stumbled a few feet before she fell on her knees 
and vomited.  Vomited until she could feel the emptiness in 
her stomach pain her more than the searing fire that had 
burned in her heart.





Enemies of the Crystal State
Chapter 5 
by KPJAM

Creators of   
Scryed Yousuke Kuroda(scenario), Yasunari Toda(manga)
Trigun - Yasuhiro Naitoh
Sailor Moon - Naoko Takeuchi 
Ranma1/2 -  Rumiko Takahashi

Thanks go out to Zorknot and Lalandil for finding many 
mistakes already.  Any that are left are solely the result 
of my crappy English.

Comments and criticism welcome.
Previous parts can be found at http://kpjam.anifics.com/

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Rei dreamed often.   At times, she felt the 'gift' as some 
would call it was actually a curse.  The transcendental 
quality many of them possessed was terribly distracting and 
unenlightening.  She had spent hours pondering and 
deciphering them, only to find no meaning in them except 
for the pure fear or wonder they brought of their own 
accord.  She dreamt of friends, loved ones, those she 
didn't know and wondered if all those dreams had a chance 
of coming true.  Many did.  Warnings were given, the best 
she could give from the unreal quality and few facts she 
ever discerned from her dreams or visions.  She especially 
made attempts when they were harbingers of ill fortune like 
this morning’s had been.  More times than she could count, 
or would ever want to remember, she had failed to prevent 
things.  Worse, she was seldom sure when she had succeeded.  
How could anyone tell what exact action had diverted 
disaster, or even if disaster was averted?  Her dream could 
have been a fraud.  But she marked all her dreams, and 
looked for the avenues that might bring them to fruition, 
and how to leave the paths that led to ruin.

She returned from her vomiting session searching for water 
in order to remove the horrid taste of bile dominated her 
thoughts.  The acrid taste was something she focused on, in 
lieu of thinking about her nightmare.  It couldn't be 
determined to be a true foretelling, unless it came true.  
It was a possibility that couldn't be allowed to come to 
pass.  Here, in this open wilderness, there were no 
apparent avenues for her to take, except hope, and try to 
remember the scene as best she could in order to avoid it.  
There were too many questions for her to process now, so 
she tried to remove those thoughts from her mind.  

She looked around, frantically, checking to make sure her 
eyes saw what she believed they saw; or rather, that they 
didn’t see what they were supposed to see.  Vash.

Kanami was awake, and sitting quietly by herself, both boys 
were sleeping, and there was no sign of Vash. 

“Where is he?” she asked, suddenly, happy to have something 
else to focus on.

Kanami, who had been eying her, replied slowly, “He said 
that he would only bring trouble if we traveled with him.  
He’ll meet us at the 'Travelers' rest' just north of Kyoto 
so we can take him in.”

“You just let him go.  Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked 
incredulously. 

Kanami bowed her head, “He asked me not to.”

Rei could only stare at the girl and wonder if she had 
found someone more naïve than Usagi.  She blinked a couple 
times to try and start her brain working.

“Which way did he go?” she finally asked.

Kanami turned and pointed over a nearby ridge.  “He left 
about an hour ago.  He was moving really fast, although he 
slowed down now.”

Rei glanced at the sleeping boys and disregarded the part 
about ‘slowing down’.  “You can let them sleep.”  She would 
take great satisfaction in getting to Vash first.  “Take 
care,” she yelled as trotted off.  


Xxxxxxxxxxxx


Kanami calmly walked down the road, leading her two 
disgruntled companions.  Neither one of them had seemed 
inclined to forgive her for letting him go and they seemed 
even less inclined to forgive her for letting them sleep.

Vash had told her the truth.  She knew that as well as she 
knew every time that Kazuma or Kimishima had lied to her.  
She also knew when they hadn’t lied intentionally, but 
failed to follow through with their words anyway.

“Are you sure this is the right direction, Kanami.  You 
said they both went over the ridge, not down the road,” 
Kimishima asked again.

“Yes.  He switched directions twice and then slowed down.  
He’s this way now,” she replied evenly.  She couldn’t 
explain it any better than she already had. She could 
‘feel’ where he was, just like she could feel his emotions.  
Right now he was relaxed but dissatisfied with something.   
It was close to the sadness he had been feeling when he 
spoke to her this morning.  That’s why she hadn’t objected 
to his actions.  He _was_ leaving for their sake and he 
felt bad about it.  

Vash was one of the few trustworthy men she had ever met.  
She was sure of it.


Xxxxxxxxxxxx


Standing in the middle of the field of rubble, Usagi held 
her end of the large concrete slab.  The backdrop of broken 
buildings highlighted their clean-up project. They had 
cleared a good deal of the city, but a great many more 
sites like this existed, and Usagi wouldn’t stop until it 
was done.  Participation was lagging, even with her 
continued appearance people just seemed less inclined to be 
civically minded of late.

Usagi felt the late afternoon sun beating fiercely on her 
back.  Six years ago a person couldn’t see then sun from 
her position, it had been blocked by the once massive 
buildings they were working at removing.  

The effort to carry the debris, even with Momaru’s help, 
was straining every muscle in her abused body, but she was 
determined to finish this one last piece.  Her head was 
fixed on the truck, miles away, at least to her perception.

“We can rest a minute.”  Mamoru’s gentle offer rolled 
around her brain as she considered, but dismissed it.  She 
had to do this.  She had to show those around her – 
especially her subjects -- that she wasn’t a piece of 
crystal.

A grunt was her eventual reply, the only reply she could 
make.  The physical exertion was getting to her, and she 
was worried that any other reply would cause her to 
hyperventilate and collapse.  That was not how she wanted 
this clean-up day to end.

The strain on her arms and back called out to her to 
reconsider Mamoru’s offer, but if he could do it, so could 
she.  She took a quick peek at his face and noted his 
concern.  Not pain, like her face must be showing, but 
worry.  The sight gave her a boost of energy as she strove 
to prove him wrong.  She quickened the pace, from a slow 
shuffling to a passable walk.  The sudden change caught her 
husband off guard, and he looked awkward for a second as he 
adjusted to her latest dictate.  He didn’t stumble though.  
For a moment she wished he had fallen.  The second the 
thought crossed her mind she chastised herself.  She was a 
mature woman now, and such childish thoughts needed to be 
avoided.

The exertion and fatigue she felt quickly banished any 
thoughts other than the truck that stood an ungodly ten 
feet away.  The goal line was actually the back of a semi 
that was used to haul rubble twice a week.

Then she tripped as she was positioning herself to unload 
her burden and time seemed to slow as she looked at the 
concrete descending towards her.  Her eyes slammed shut as 
she hit the ground, waiting for the pain to descend on her 
in the form of a broken building; it never did.  She 
cautiously opened her eyes to gaze upon the rugged gray 
surface that hung in the air inches from her chest.

“Are you okay, Queen Serenity?” a low pitched voice asked. 

She blinked and turned her head to the speaker.  Knives was 
standing there.  Her view of his body bisected by the 
corner of the concrete he was preventing from falling.  She 
could feel her face flush, even over the heat from day.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, before gingerly crawling out from 
under her potential doom.

“I’m glad to here that,” he responded with a small smile 
when she was on her feet.  

She returned the smile, moments before an excited Mamoru 
ran up to her and placed his arm over her shoulder, pulling 
her into an embrace.  

“I told you to take it easy,” he said sternly.  

She bristled for a moment as she shook of his arm.  The 
Queen stared hard at her husband until the caring in his 
face melted her objections and her heart twinge with guilt.  
“I guess I overdid it a bit, huh.”

“No harm done.”  The smile that he granted her told Usagi 
all she needed to know.  She tried to smile in return, but 
it turned out to be rueful grin.

“I’d ask you to promise not to do it again, but I doubt 
you’d keep it.”

“Mamoru, that’s not fair.  I have to set a good example, 
and you know that.”  Mamoru flinched visibly from her 

Mamoru sighed, and seemed ready to respond when he was 
interrupted.

“A good leader always leads by example,” Knives said, 
entering the conversation again.

“Exactly,” Usagi responded regally, turning her head up and 
slightly away from Mamoru.

“And what a fine example it is, abandoning your guests to 
work on a construction site.”

“Erg…” Usagi spun to face Knives, her eyes where wild.  
“I’m so 
sorryIhadn’tcomeinlikeamonthandfeltreallyreallybadaboutit.”  
She bowed her head when she finished.

Knives took a step back, obviously unprepared for the rapid 
speech.  “I don’t mind.  I think it’s great.  If my 
predecessor had been more like you, he might be here 
instead of me.”

“Oh.  I thought you said that he did a terrible job?”  
Usagi forgot her momentary embarrassment and tried to 
remember what exactly she had heard on the subject that had 
been picked out of what little he had said last night.  She 
didn’t notice the disapproving look she received from her 
husband, nor would she have cared.

“I said that the populace felt he was unsuited for the 
job,” he responded amicably.

She was quickly remembering his answers last night had been 
polite, but dreadfully vague.  Mamoru and Setsuna had 
prepared her for that, political talk and it was the number 
one thing she hated about her position.  She had always 
been direct, and didn’t understand the need for it now.  In 
fact, she still believed it was wrong.

“So what exactly happened? You never really mentioned it 
last night.”

He looked at her seriously for a second, before he answered, 
“The populace called for a vote.  He was forced to agree, 
and they voted me in,” he answered simply.  When no one 
else spoke he continued, “He was a good man, just ill 
suited for the public light.  I actually haven’t changed 
many of the policies he set up.  Right now he’s a trusted 
advisor in charge now that I’m not there.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Mamoru interjected quickly.  
Usagi wasn’t sure if his face was curious, or skeptical, or 
a little of both.  She knew she was fascinated.  The men 
who had run the country before the war, were a sore spot 
for her and her government.  Some, were members of her own 
swelling council, others had felt the need to leave the 
city, while a few had stayed and kept out of the current 
politics of the city-state.

“How so?”  Knives’ seemed completely bewildered by the 
question.  Usagi didn’t believe she had been that naïve 
when she started, although she admitted it was her own 
decision to have former government officials involved in 
the city today.
 
“The person you replaced now has his job back.  Won’t that 
cause trouble when you return?”

“Ah.  No.  I trust him completely.  He gave up the city 
peacefully and I’m sure he even believes what happened was 
for the best.”

“Knives is very fortunate to have him.  Some of the 
policies he started have worked out very well,” a melodic 
string of words came into the conversation. 

Usagi chastised herself for not noticing Kasumi before.  
She must have taken Mamoru’s side of the debris and helped 
Knives dispose of it.  She hadn’t thought of that earlier, 
and she was annoyed at herself for missing it now.  She was 
always being told she had to think of everything now, 
especially things that had to have happened outside her 
sight.  Logic training, Rei had teased her about her 
simplicity before.  She just never felt the need to doubt 
anyone, believing they would always be truthful and tell 
her what she needed to know.  

Knives’ advisor stood by his side, as unobtrusive as the 
background unless she spoke -- which she did with a 
wonderful mixture of poise, nobility, and humanity.  She 
wondered how she had missed the eld.... No, Kasumi was 
actually younger than her.  It was a fact that had shocked 
her last night.  Not so much because of appearance, but 
because of the way she spoke, and carried herself, and just 
appeared more mature than the Queen.  Usagi had to admit 
she was a little jealous of that.  If she could give a 
similar impression, maybe Mamoru and the outers wouldn’t 
give her such a hard time about appearing more majestic.  
She didn’t want to intimidate the people she met, she 
wanted everyone to work together as a community and be 
friends.

She regarded the pair as they stood next to each.  They 
wore complimentary outfits that seemed suited for a casual 
day of sightseeing, which is where they were supposed to be.

“Where are Setsuna and Masakado?” she asked suddenly.

“Right here, Your Majesty,” Masakado said as he walked up 
to the growing circle of people.

Masakado Taira was one of her advisors, the one she liked 
the most outside of her senshi and Mamoru.  He was in his 
mid-thirties, with medium length black hair that reminded 
her more of a horse’s mane than a man’s head of hair.  He 
was tall, about five feet and ten inches, and wiry.  She 
remembered him saying he worked out, but she didn’t 
remember much more than that.  He was also one of her few 
advisors that had never treated her like a child.

Setsuna stood next to him, looking amused at the situation, 
and Usagi wondered how much she had overheard or witnessed.

“How could you bring them here?  I look like such a mess,” 
she howled at the elder woman.

“He wanted to see this place.  I didn’t tell them you’d be 
here until after we arrived,” she answered.

Usagi turned towards Knives.  “Why would you want to see 
this place?”

“I was curious as to your clean-up methods and how 
thoroughly you were doing it.  It seems your designs in how 
to go about it are similar.  I assume this is the next area 
slated for habitation.”  He turned and looked around the 
site. 

“Yes.  There’s some warehouse space and cold storage in 
those buildings.  We’ve improved our harvesting when we 
uncovered a few more trucks over the winter and could clear 
a few more acres,” she explained excitedly.  She really did 
love “the reclamation of Tokyo” project as they were 
calling it.  It was her passionate hope to see the city 
return to a semblance of its former glory and then surpass 
it to become the Crystal Tokyo of her dreams.

Kasumi took that moment to clear her throat and interrupted 
the conversation.  “Lord Knives, you have an appointment to 
keep,” Kasumi said demurely.

Usagi blinked hard.  She couldn’t remember the other woman 
starting a conversation all through dinner and she had done 
it twice today.  She had been incredibly polite and 
friendly, a difficult mix in politics, but very unobtrusive.  
She had answered everything put to her and even continued 
some conversations by asking questions of her own, but only 
after the effort was made by someone else.

Knives looked at his assistant for a moment, before 
comprehension flooded his face and he turned back to the 
Queen and knelt.  “She is right.  We were only supposed to 
stop for a brief tour.  I look forward to continuing our 
conversation, Your Majesty.”

Usagi returned a polished curtsy as she fought the jell-o 
that had replaced her muscles and hoped that her 
extremities didn’t pick that moment to decide they could do 
better on their own.

Kasumi and Masakado bowed in turn and offered their 
farewells.  Setsuna nodded her head, the last of the 
entourage, and was about to leave when Mamoru motioned for 
her.  His manner shouted discretion and Usagi crouched 
forward, not wanting to miss anything.

“What was he like today?” the King asked.

Setsuna smiled.  “Very polished...  Too polished.  Smart 
and easy to get along with.  I’m not sure I like him.”  Her 
face became contemplative, as if she was looking for words 
to find.

“I need to go,” she said suddenly and turned to leave, but 
was stopped when Usagi caught her arm.

“What’s his appointment?” she asked, her curiosity getting 
the better of her.

Setsuna demurely removed her arm, looked mischievously at 
the younger woman, and said, “He has a date.  Remember?”  
She gave an amused smile and turned to catch up with rest 
of her party.

Usagi turned to Mamoru, confusion still on her face.  
“Date?”

He laughed in her face.  “You set it up, remember?”

It hit her then and she flushed to the roots.  Makoto!


Xxxxxxxxx


Cynthia glided across the room, unable to completely 
control her excitement.  Her outfit, close fitting jeans 
and shapely black blouse, sat under her bed, waiting for 
her attention.  It was uncommon, but not unheard of for her 
parents to enter her room unannounced, and if they caught a 
glimmer of her plans, she would be jailed in her 
house.  She was seventeen now, and should be able to do as 
she pleased, not adhering to the restrictive whims of her 
parents.  Her prancing stopped in front of her dresser and 
her eyes lingered upon the small note laid there.  It was a 
dream come true, and she couldn't contain the bubbling 
ecstasy that coursed through her.  Picking it up, she 
gently unfolded it, re-reading the short missive for the 
hundredth time.  Love, that she had thought unrequited, now 
wasn’t.   
 
She heard her father enter her parents’ room, and knew her 
mother would be joining him shortly.  If she visited here 
first, that could prove disastrous, as she was incapable of 
acting calm anymore, the future of the night were to close 
at hand. 
 
Sneaking out was something relatively knew to her, having 
only actually done it twice before.  The streets were eerie 
and fascinating, the night lights and bustling humanity 
that existed before the war, before she could take part in 
it, no longer existed.  Now, there was an edge returning to 
the city that even the adolescents could feel, most 
palpable in the evenings when people, young and old would 
meet.  They had been too tired in years past, occasionally 
sharing a meal or simple company.  Gangs were now forming 
as people turned once again to their own problems, and 
started feeling out how the city would really run.  The 
soup kitchens were no longer enough for those most 
unfortunate, as they watched others eat their fill.  The 
stories of the occasional beef dinner would bring howls of 
anger to those eating porridge.  Crime, although still non-
existent compared to the pre-war era, was making its 
comeback.  The nighttime was where the excitement once 
again thrived and Rei Kashino was a major part of it. 
 
He had boyish good looks and a dangerous attitude that made 
him the desire of every girl in the area.  And he had 
invited her to meet him tonight.  Her!  She had always 
thought he considered her a mere nuisance.  Daughter of the 
one of the nobles on the Queens staff, she had been watched 
closely by her parents and forced to tow a specific line, 
one that the other kids took great care to belittle.

Her mother’s soft footsteps echoed throughout the house and 
Cynthia stopped all thought in order to listen for the door 
to close.  Her beating heart sounded in her head above the 
once again silent house.  She waited a few moments, if her 
parents indulged themselves they might leave the bedroom 
later for something to drink, and nothing would keep her 
from her rendezvous tonight.  

She started dressing, alert to any change in the sounds of 
the house as she slipped on her jeans and bra.  Quickly 
adding her blouse, she adjusted her clothing and make-up, 
before checking herself in the mirror, turning off the 
lights and waiting a few more minutes to be sure.  Finally 
satisfied, she crept quietly out of the house, ready for an 
unforgettable evening.


Xxxxxxxxx


Makoto Kino stood on the balcony over looking a small 
interior courtyard, waiting. 

She had arrived early as was her routine.  Prolonged 
exposure to Usagi had reinforced this trait within her, 
something that started because her parents had always been 
late.  Hours had been lost playing with her friends when 
she was younger, courtesy of her immature parents.  Even 
when, like now, being tardy might be of some benefit to her, 
she still arrived early.  Every girl understood the 
advantage of arriving late, or so Usagi had told her 
earlier when her friend and Queen had attempted to delay 
her from her meeting with her potential suitor.

Irony was a word she didn't much like, but had played a big 
part in her life, especially her love life.  Here she was, 
meeting a man that had expressed interest in marriage, a 
successful, attractive, polite, and intelligent man, and 
she had no interest in the meeting him.  Her fate was to be 
alone.  She had come to believe this most fervently as she 
thought back over her past encounters, unfulfilled 
experiences, and rejections.  They had all, in one form or 
another, plagued her life and continually attacked her like 
a shark feeding on fresh blood in the water. 

Sighing, she considered this meeting, and thought of ways 
to cut it short.  Dinner last night had been enjoyable, but 
she really didn't want to be alone with this man.  She knew 
the outcome; so she didn't understand the need to go 
through with it.  But her Queen had demanded it, telling 
her all manner of things in an attempt to get Makoto to 
open her mind and her heart.  It had been typical Usagi, 
belief in and only in love, justice and faerie tales, all 
of which had worked out for her, and failed for the others.

Crisp steps echoed off the marble floors and declared her 
time had come.  She turned and regarded her suitor as he 
entered the small alcove.  He was immaculately dressed, a 
tuxedo with pink corsage adding a hint of color to his 
outfit, and complimenting nicely the perfect complexion he 
possessed.  His smile was speculative, not the confident 
expression that had graced him last night, and she had 
expected to see full-fold tonight.

"I'm sorry.  Did I keep you waiting?"  His question sounded 
contrite, as if he was really worried about her.

"I came early.  It's a habit of mine from being forced to 
wait on... a certain friend of mine who's _always_ late," 
she replied, remembering ruefully to thank her friend later, 
and trying to suppress the pull this man's mere presence 
placed upon her quickening heart.

He nodded, accepting her words, though his face looked 
troubled, worried even.

"You don't want to be here."  There wasn't the hint of a 
question in his remark, and a part of her felt shamed that 
he had discerned her mood so quickly.

"I thought you would rather be with one of the others."

"Why would you think that?"

"You were so _disappointed_ that the two beauties weren't 
here."

"Ah, that," he said, eyes downcast, and a frown upon his 
face.  "My apologies.  I had been expecting to meet four of 
you and was distressed that they were absent.  I was afraid 
that maybe I had said or done something that had offended.  
And here, I find that I have."

She stopped and regarded him.  He was feeding her a line, 
of that she was sure, but something about his voice, his 
demeanor left her unsure.  "That still doesn't explain why 
you are shopping for a wife in the first place."

Smiling brightly, he walked over to her and looked into her 
eyes.  His gaze was fierce, penetrating, and she wanted to 
turn away, but some compulsion held her gaze. 
"I am a man," he said softly, but the force of his voice 
was apparent.  "I have benefited from some luck, and 
decided to use that luck for the opportunity to meet some 
beautiful women.  What man wouldn't wish for such fortune?"

"You could have just visited.  Not forced some arrangement 
upon Neo-Queen Serenity, upon us."

"I apologize for that.  It was a miscalculation and never 
my intention to force myself upon anyone.  I was merely 
hoping to display the honesty of my intentions and 
seriousness of my disposition when the matter was breached.  
If it has caused some small discomfort, I can only 
apologize and hope that you not think upon me too unkindly 
when you remember this one meeting."

"So you don't want to marry one of us?"

"How could I desire something that would make you unhappy?  
I feel this conversation has taken.....  No, it was started 
on improper footing.  I am Knives of Kyoto.  It's a 
pleasure to meet you."

"Charmed," she responded, a slow smile coming unbidden to 
her face.

"I heard you were an athlete and practiced martial arts."

"I do.  Would you care to spar?"

"Sure, some time.... How about now?"

"We're not exactly dressed for it and Usa... the Queen 
would be upset."  The last thought actually brought her a 
slight quiver of pleasure.

"We can change our clothes, and why would her Majesty be 
less than thrilled at our sharing something that we both 
enjoy?"

The skeptical frown on her face gave way.  "You're right.  
There's a gymnasium in the basement.  One of the guards can 
show you the way."  She smiled at him then, a genuine smile 
that reflected anticipation, and asked, "are you any good?"

He unhesitatingly responded with a cocky grin and said, 
"I'm the best."


Xxxxxx


The early nighttime of Tokyo was a time most spent with 
their families, at least those who still had them.  It had 
changed dramatically over the years since the war, and the 
freeing of the people by Neo-Queen Serenity.  The first 
year, when food was scarce and people grouped together in 
communities of sizes and cooperation that hadn't existed in 
ages, people would gather in the evenings on the outskirts 
of the city, or near these very docks to share large mess-
hall type meals.  The lack of people meant, all that were 
able bodied and healthy would forage, hunt, or fish in 
order to provide what sustenance they could manage to 
supplement or supplant the dried rations that were stored 
in the shelters.  The choice between a meager helping of 
fresh food and something that would last for decades was 
easy to make for most people.  The planting and 
restructuring of the food production were also time-
consuming endeavors that everyone took part in, even the 
youngest of the survivors.

Masakado Taira strode purposely trough these selfsame docks 
he had worked at four years ago, ignoring the calls of his 
family this night.  He was a stock broker in his previous 
life.  Degrees in law and philosophy had been discounted 
for the rush of money and the power that went with it.  He 
had been humbled by the war, and like everyone, done what 
he could to survive.  His wife and small children had been 
delivered to his shelter, one that had been set up for 
those with influence.  He remembered that hectic day as he 
was whisked from his office with those other 'golden' 
employees by helicopter to their designated shelter.  His 
family had been brought by one of his servants, who had 
been rewarded with a place in the shelter for his service.  
The waiting had been painful, as he hadn't been sure if the 
butler would make it in time; but, the shining face of his 
wife, mother, and two children had shown up in their suites 
an hour before the doors would close, which was fifteen 
minutes before the first missile would land.

He had spent the first month getting acquainted with the 
area and procedures of their entombment.  The small suite 
they had, the meal times, recreation facilities, and work 
assignments were all passed around, and adhered to; the 
need for order and stability was great in the underground 
complex, with people not sure of their future, or their 
present.  He had felt real pride for his wife and children, 
as they failed to make public spectacles of themselves 
during the first tumultuous days.  It was the first time he 
had really noticed how strong his wife was, or his children 
as he passed by the occasional weeping wife or child.  
Their husbands had been marked by those with power and 
influence that shared their honeycombed domicile.  The 
memory and repercussions for their failure to hold their 
households in check would have long-lasting effects.  With 
one notable exception, Cynthia Ikari had been a super-brat.  
To Masakado’s great dissatisfaction, her father Gendo, had 
indulged the brat and still been placed above him in the 
current government.  His recent good-fortune and current 
opportunity was, and this he was sure of, due to his 
stability and stature during their first few months of 
underground exile from the world.

Knowledge and ability had carried him and his family 
through the first year after they had been freed.  He knew 
the necessity of food and lodging and was a driving force 
in the structure that had been first implemented.  He had 
gained stature through his proximity to the people who used 
to rule the world, and his ability to deal with those who 
now ruled Tokyo.   He had used the former to gain the ear 
of the later, and his ability had garnered his current 
position as one of the advisors to the city, Assistant 
Financial Advisor to be exact.  He should have, could have 
been the Financial Advisor, Ikari, but he had moved too 
slowly, allowed too much of himself to be covered by his 
old boss, whose job he should have had.

Even though he hadn’t taken the job he so much coveted, he 
had gained a special relationship with the Queen, another 
step towards power.  The next steps were being taken 
tonight as he moved towards his next meeting.  The first 
step of many was being taken towards the proper restoration 
of Tokyo.

His job of chauffeur today had been an unfortunate 
consequence of his friendship with the Queen.  His day 
would have been better spent doing other things, and public 
association with Knives and especially Kasumi, was not 
something he wanted.  He doubted it would pose a problem, 
but he was meticulous in his preparations, and chance 
memories could cause him more trouble than it was worth in 
the long run.

The small restaurant he was going to was just up ahead and 
he slowed to carefully consider this conversation.  His 
work was coming to fruition, and the size of the operation 
was reaching critical mass.   Each additional person meant 
an exponential increase in the risks involved, while not 
enough people meant failure.  This was the biggest 
consideration, as he had less and less time to spend with 
each addition member; his immediate judgments became more 
and more important.  The man had passed the initial test 
earlier, asking of the Queen that which they both knew 
would be declined.  It had been an insignificant matter in 
the grand scheme of things, but people were often blinded 
by their immediate desires, something he was grateful for.

He entered the restaurant and spotted Akira Sagimoto and 
nodded his head, before joining him at the bar.

Mr. Sagimoto wore a well tailored suit, something from his 
business.  The suit hung a bit loosely of his shoulders, 
doing a good job of camouflaging the excessive paunch the 
man now carried around.  His thinning black hair was combed 
together, and Masakado was sure some treatment was used to 
give it a fuller look.  It made his thin face and long 
limbs appear even more stick like in comparison.  Rumors 
persisted that he had appropriated quite a bit of his stock 
from abandoned warehouses.   The directive was that all 
salvageable material was to be handed over to the palace to 
be apportioned out fairly to the city.

They exchanged greetings, then pleasantries over some 
inferior sake.  Another of the major shames of the current 
regime was their reluctance to allow alcohol and the poor 
funding that was allotted to it.  Actually, no funding was 
allotted to the wise entrepreneurs who had established the 
distilleries that produced this most mediocre blend.  They 
had found an old factory in the hills, used their own funds 
and know how to re-establish the place and had ended up 
making a mint.  Since they had gone against the will of the 
Queen, and exposed themselves to the risk, they had been 
taxed accordingly, less than the others who used public 
funds and backing to establish themselves.  It had been at 
Masakado's urging that they be allowed to continue and 
profit from their endeavor, even at the loss of manpower 
and funds in sectors of the city that Neo-Queen Serenity 
deemed more appropriate.

Sitting down for dinner, the two men continued their verbal 
jostling, intent on seeing who would reign supreme in the 
pre-game conversation.  They both had impressions to make, 
and both knew how much the other might be swayed by 
favorable feelings that could be elicited.  They both knew 
that every little bit help, and the higher one was held in 
esteem, the better their ideas and demands would be 
received.  It was human nature, and both these men had been 
winners in their 'old' lives, and were fighting to 
reestablish that level of dominance in their new ones.  As 
the conversations continued, Masakado was clear winning, 
and both men knew that.  He had won their previous session 
as well, and although it would never be spoken, both men 
knew this and acted accordingly.  Masakado had made another 
conquest, and he boldly breached the subject of their 
meeting, content in his knowledge that he would get what he 
wanted this evening, and the cost would be less than he had 
originally thought.

"Opportunity will not come from the Queen," Masakado stated 
suddenly. 

Akira blinked, another battle lost that they both realized, 
and replied, "if not from the Queen, where?"

"When you were young, and your parents raised you.  You 
were content for a while, but eventually you became a man.  
Had to move out of your parent's house, establish your own 
life, your own rules.  Be your own man.  Society is a house, 
when you feel you can no longer abide by the rules of your 
father, who owns the house, you must establish your own."  
He raised his glass, bowed his head slightly, eyeing, not 
Akira now, but the sake glass.  "With risk comes reward.  
And the greatest rewards, require the greatest risks."  He 
then turned back to Akira.  The other man had a neutral 
look about his face.  He was a man who knew the importance 
of the moment, and the irrevocable nature of his next 
movements and words.

A hand, slightly shaking reached out and grasped his own 
sake cup.  He lifted it up and then met Masakado's intent 
stare.  "A man cannot be a man without taking risks," he 
replied.

Masakado smiled in reply as he downed his glass, and 
enjoyed the fruits of another choice well made.  He checked 
his watch.  He had another appointment to keep this evening, 
his biggest risk to date.

Xxxxxxx


Masakado walked into the small alley.  There was rear 
entrance, off the street that he knew would be open.  He 
waited almost breathlessly for his companion.  He had grown 
up only believing in the reality of the world, what he 
could touch and feel.  Magic was something of fairy tales.  
Even the pre-war stories of the senshi were disbelieved by 
him and many.

The post war cleansing was something he had to accept, as 
so many others had.  That acceptance had led to this 
situation.  The current government was in place because of 
that very magic.  It was only fitting that magic would be 
the key to its undoing.

“Hello,” the soft whisper caused him to jump.  He turned 
swiftly to the woman who had spoken.  He could barely make 
out her form in the darkness, and something about her 
presence it gave him chills.  

“This will work?” he asked.

She ignored him and turned to regard the door.  Her arm 
raised silently, her loose sleeve forming a visible trail 
for its movement in the dark and she pointed it at object 
separating him from the point of no return. “He’s in here?”

Masakado nodded.

“Shall we.”  There was no question in her voice at all.

He silently moved to open the door.  He cringed at the 
faint creaking sound it made as it was opened.  Turning 
around, he searched the ground until he eyes locked on a 
large stone.  Bending down, he picked it up, and propped it 
in doorway as he let himself in.

She followed close behind him, allowing him to close the 
door while she looked around.   Her eyes finished their 
sweep on him, and he withered under her gaze.  Gulping, he 
took a deep breath and firmed his resolve.  He took the 
scarf from his pocket, and ventured into the house.

The boy, Shizumaru, had been specifically selected.  He had 
no family, was considered extremely nice, well liked by 
those who knew him, lived alone and reportedly was a little 
wrong in the head.  He was seating in the next room, 
engrossed in writing something.  Masakado moved forward as 
stealthily as possible, taking one last breath when he was 
in range, before moving quickly, slipping the scarf over 
the boys head and fastening it around his mouth.  The waif 
struggled, but was quickly overpowered as he was spun 
around to face the Masakado’s companion.

The boy’s struggles stopped completely when his eyes fell 
upon the woman.  Masakado took a peek and the fluorescent 
white light that illuminated her was eerie.  Her hand was 
writing, a semi-translucent pen scribbled away at a pad of 
paper, while her eyes blazed bronze.

Shizumaru was having a seizure, his body stiffened and 
shaking, a sensation Masakado felt through the scarf. His 
slack muscles flapped to the tempo of the boy’s vibrations.

A leaf of paper would regularly flitter from the woman’s 
pad and he watched transfixed as the glowing implement seem 
to sail into nothingness, dissolving before his eyes.  The 
scene lasted for a few minutes and ended when the pad 
dissolved into the air.

Shizumaru slumped forward, hitting the ground with a dull 
thud when Masakado released the scarf.

The woman turned, and began walking.  “He’s ready,” she 
intoned as she disappeared into the next room.  The door 
could be heard opening and closing, leaving Masakado alone 
with his weapon.


Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx





Taira Masakado stood a good distance away from the brutal 
scene.  The screams of anguish had died down and were now 
replaced with sobbing, a pitiful whimpering that was 
occasionally broken by the pounding of flesh upon flesh.  
He was taking a risk lingering here, but he had to witness 
the spark that would set fire to his revolution.  Things of 
magic were beyond him, but the woman had said she could 
beguile the young man and he had to witness its results.

The dim moonlight provided little illumination as he 
watched the bobbing of the young man’s pimpled rear.  
Masakado was already looking ahead to tomorrow, and the 
next day.  He wondered how long he would have to wait.   
Four days was his estimate, but he was prepared to be wrong.  
The woman that ran this city would work quickly, which 
would be to his advantage.  A few others had their prepared 
parts to play, and he would be busy the following two days, 
talking.  He always prided himself on his ability to speak, 
to convey, and most importantly to sway.  Men of action 
were needed.  

The woman suffering now, Cynthia Ikari, was chosen because 
she had been a woman of youth and hope, not unlike those 
who ruled here.  And the effect it would have on her father, 
and the country would lead him to his goals.

The sounds of people approaching pulled him from his 
contemplation.  He turned silently down the alley and left 
the area.  He was almost out of earshot when the first 
cries of “Rape” were heard.


--------------------------


Kasumi languidly stretched out across the bed, spent in a 
way that only Knives could induce in her.  The stress from 
earlier in the evening had been long forgotten.  She stared 
up at the ceiling, her eyes reaching back in time.  She 
recalled their first coupling.  The moment when passion and 
sympathy broke her will, compelled her to this road she now 
traveled.  The moment she surrender to her desires and 
first defied her family's wishes.  Her father had made 
those clear numerous times when she had beseeched him to 
release her to him.  Her will had crumbled or been broken.  
The happiness she received in turn had caused her to never 
care which, for the joy she had discovered in her heart in 
this man had overridden her constraints.

In the end, she had her father to thank.  The emotionless 
center of her had been formed by her tasks, tasks that had 
stripped her of her morality.  She had been grown to love 
and care for her family, first and foremost.  Schooled in 
the way of tradition, she was an expert at graciousness and 
propriety.  But they had been things she had learned in 
place of caring, or anger.  She saw life in black and white.  
Not the black and white of right and wrong, but of duty.  A 
job.  She had been taught to put away grief and true caring, 
for duty.

Her emotions had burst free for this man.  When love, true 
love had returned to her with a passion her mind had not 
been able to cope with, she had been found.  Love.  Hate. 
Tenderness.  Cruelty.  They had found their way back to her 
heart.  The service she had provided her family had taught 
her how to care for people, things.  That service had never 
taught her to care about, and the blinding pain of her 
father's betrayal, the rejection of her heart's desire had 
forever cast her out of his sphere of control.

The night.  That first night of their coupling, her final 
surrender had been when her loyalty to her father, her 
family died.  The night Knives planted his seed in her, he 
changed her forever.  That passion he had forced to the 
surface burned with an intensity that she, to this day, 
could not sate.  She had placed her life long obedience in 
his hands then.  Placing him above herself by her own will, 
when before it was the will of her father that all be 
placed above her.  She placed him also above her father, 
and family, who had become nothing to her in her heart.

She had proven that the next day, when she had still felt 
the raw, fresh wounds of her father's denunciation of 
Knives.  They had been forbidden to wed, forbidden to be 
together.  He was a foreigner to her father.  No one even 
knew the boy's origin, but Soun had insisted that he was 
from an unsavory lot.   She had slain him as he walked from 
her, after another order of food and drink.  She stood over 
his lifeless body wondering why she had wasted all this 
time on one who had so little regard for her.

Her musing and staring where interrupted by Knives’ hot 
breath upon her neck and his whispered words of 
encouragement in her ears.  Telling her it was time, the 
plan he had shared with her the night before was to come to 
pass now. 

Quietly, in the early hours of the morning they moved and 
hid the body of Soun Tendo.  Soundlessly they regarded each 
other before parting.  Knives went to find Ranma, while 
Kasumi went to the reactors under the ground.  She had no 
idea how they would survive outside, but Knives had 
promised to take care of her, and he had.

She turned and lightly traced her finger along his chest, 
watching as a delicious smile crept upon his face.  His 
stern visage lowered in the candlelight.

"Are you sure about this?  It's not too late to change the 
plans.  We could take them directly."

She continued to caress his chest, pretending to 
contemplate an answer to his question.  The question wasn't 
about the marriage, they had decided that long ago. 
The question was their remaining family.  The plan was 
hastily devised, but it had its own charm. 

"I could think of no better present to give the Queen or 
the world," she whispered finally.  She looked up from his 
torso and met his gaze.

"You are wonderful, but you must not forget our family," 
was his reply as he leaned forward, meeting her upturned 
lips in hungered need.  They wouldn't see each other for a 
while.  She would return to the outside world, and he would 
ready things here.

She opened her mind and her heart to him as they enjoyed 
one last night of passion together before she returned to 
watching, and soon, acting.


---------------

fin

Notes.   For those who are following this, chapters 6 and 7 
are finished in draft format.  I’ll publish when ready.  
Part of the reason this took so long is I’m having trouble 
chaptering.  This was originally going to be chapter 7 or 8, 
but I moved scenes around and this is now 5.  Anyway, let 
me know what you think.  Ja.

http://kpjam.anifics.com/
noirchloe@nyc.rr.com